Sif awoke a short time later with a sudden jolt as a cool breeze slipped down her spine. Blinking groggily for a moment, she rubbed her knuckles against tear-swollen eyes as she blinked around her darkened room.
She hadn't meant to fall asleep, but maybe it had been for the best, since she felt a little better now after her cry, although the rest of the evening still loomed dauntingly ahead of her. Heaving a sigh, she pushed herself out of her bed, bare feet padding across the thick fur rug that covered her floor. She went through the motion of picking up her strewn clothing without any real thought, dropping them into the chest at the bottom of her bed before turning towards the wardrobe to retrieve the gown her mother had selected for her to wear tonight.
That was when she caught sight of her reflection again and froze in the middle of the room, as if there were some stranger there with her, staring back at her in shared shock at being spotted. One hand lifted to brush trembling fingers against the shorn ends of her long hair, only now noticing the lightness of its weight, falling in unruly spikes about her ears.
Gone was the pale golden hue she'd inherited from her mother, the silken shade her father always said he'd loved most. Instead, what was left of her hair was as black as night, silken shadows reflecting the flickering candlelight, swallowing them. The spikes curled around her face in tousled disarray, framing her features in a way she'd never noticed before with her hair long and drawn back. Still, it was unheard of for a noble lady to cut her hair short, although she'd seen some of the Valkyrie do such a thing. Then again, the Valkyrie were a law unto themselves and a people apart, not at all like the rest of the Aesir.
Sif sunk slowly to her knees on the white fur rug, her legs suddenly unable to hold her as she stared at her reflection. Her fingers touched the shorn ends of her hair, smooth and straight, while her mind tried to comprehend what she was seeing. She didn't need to ask how; she knew. Just as she'd known where her hairpins could be found. This sudden change was too overwhelming to understand all at once, however.
"Loki. What have you done?" she whispered, staring at herself in the mirror, too numbed with shock to tell if she was furious or elated by his audacity.
"Sif?"
Her mother's voice floated up the stairs, urgency in her tone. "Sif, are you ready? We must go or we will be late. We cannot keep the royal family, it would be unaccountably rude."
The sound of her mother's voice awoke a sudden panic in her as she leapt to her feet, fingers clutching at her hair. "I am almost ready, mother!" she called back, hoping her voice sounded normal. "Go on without me! I will meet you there! I promise I will not be long. I just have a few last minute touches."
There was a hesitation before her mother's voice came again, no closer, thank the stars. "Don't tarry, dear one. Your father is most impatient. We will meet you at the dining hall."
For several long moments, Sif didn't move, waiting for her racing pulse to stop deafening her. Then she sprang into action, mind already spinning up explanations, excuses. But most of all, steeling herself for the dinner to come.
no subject
She hadn't meant to fall asleep, but maybe it had been for the best, since she felt a little better now after her cry, although the rest of the evening still loomed dauntingly ahead of her. Heaving a sigh, she pushed herself out of her bed, bare feet padding across the thick fur rug that covered her floor. She went through the motion of picking up her strewn clothing without any real thought, dropping them into the chest at the bottom of her bed before turning towards the wardrobe to retrieve the gown her mother had selected for her to wear tonight.
That was when she caught sight of her reflection again and froze in the middle of the room, as if there were some stranger there with her, staring back at her in shared shock at being spotted. One hand lifted to brush trembling fingers against the shorn ends of her long hair, only now noticing the lightness of its weight, falling in unruly spikes about her ears.
Gone was the pale golden hue she'd inherited from her mother, the silken shade her father always said he'd loved most. Instead, what was left of her hair was as black as night, silken shadows reflecting the flickering candlelight, swallowing them. The spikes curled around her face in tousled disarray, framing her features in a way she'd never noticed before with her hair long and drawn back. Still, it was unheard of for a noble lady to cut her hair short, although she'd seen some of the Valkyrie do such a thing. Then again, the Valkyrie were a law unto themselves and a people apart, not at all like the rest of the Aesir.
Sif sunk slowly to her knees on the white fur rug, her legs suddenly unable to hold her as she stared at her reflection. Her fingers touched the shorn ends of her hair, smooth and straight, while her mind tried to comprehend what she was seeing. She didn't need to ask how; she knew. Just as she'd known where her hairpins could be found. This sudden change was too overwhelming to understand all at once, however.
"Loki. What have you done?" she whispered, staring at herself in the mirror, too numbed with shock to tell if she was furious or elated by his audacity.
"Sif?"
Her mother's voice floated up the stairs, urgency in her tone. "Sif, are you ready? We must go or we will be late. We cannot keep the royal family, it would be unaccountably rude."
The sound of her mother's voice awoke a sudden panic in her as she leapt to her feet, fingers clutching at her hair. "I am almost ready, mother!" she called back, hoping her voice sounded normal. "Go on without me! I will meet you there! I promise I will not be long. I just have a few last minute touches."
There was a hesitation before her mother's voice came again, no closer, thank the stars. "Don't tarry, dear one. Your father is most impatient. We will meet you at the dining hall."
For several long moments, Sif didn't move, waiting for her racing pulse to stop deafening her. Then she sprang into action, mind already spinning up explanations, excuses. But most of all, steeling herself for the dinner to come.
Things had just gotten far more interesting.